


as sweet as the sound

by thesarosperiod



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Singing, christine loves nyota's voice because don't we all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesarosperiod/pseuds/thesarosperiod
Summary: She had learned several lessons rather quickly when she took her first posting with Starfleet, and one of them was this: a starship is never quiet.(or: in which Christine Chapel is surprisingly glad to have been woken up at 4:00 AM.)
Relationships: Christine Chapel/Nyota Uhura, Pavel Chekov/Hikaru Sulu if you squint
Comments: 15
Kudos: 20
Collections: LGBT Gift Exchange 2020





	as sweet as the sound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thunderdogz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunderdogz/gifts).



“Remember when you'd sing just for the fuck of it?

Any joy it would bring, honey, the look of it

Was as sweet as the sound

Your head tilt back, your funny mouth to the clouds

I couldn't hope to know that song or know its words

Wouldn't claim to feel the same we felt the first time it was heard

And I couldn't name that feeling carried in that voice

Was it that or just the act of makin' noise that brought you joy?”

_“To Noise Making (Sing),” Hozier_

——————— 

The interior of Christine Chapel’s shared quarters is still dark when she wakes.

She had learned several lessons rather quickly when she took her first posting with Starfleet, and one of them was this: a starship is never quiet. Even during ship’s night, there were always people coming and going, as the shifts changed and tired crewmates were relieved for a welcome eight hours of sleep. Footsteps trampled up and down the halls, excited voices trickled by in the corridors, and doors slid open and shut with a noise that Christine was sure _had_ to be some sort of design flaw. And even when the natural sounds of the crew occasionally fell silent, the muted resonance of the engines could be heard, a constant white noise that could only be discerned in the ship’s quieter moments. To work in Starfleet, you had to learn to be good at filtering out noise, and early on in her posting, Christine had spent many sleepless nights in bed with a pillow pressed to each ear.

But tonight, the halls were quiet, and Christine hadn’t been roused by any loud noises—at least, not as far as she could tell.

The first thing she notices as she stirs is that she can hear the faint buzzing of the engines. A peaceful night, then. _High time, too_ , she thinks wryly as she blearily opens her eyes. Lieutenant Sulu had had an _extremely_ close call just a few days ago, and it had taken five hours in surgery to patch him up properly. The process was thoroughly impeded by Ensign Chekov, who had been very much in the way the entire time. (Though she didn’t quite have the heart to kick him out, as she probably should have—he was quite a mess. She’d decided she could deal with him hovering by the Lieutenant’s bedside well enough.) The whole crew had been on edge ever since. It was nice to see the ship settling down again, though she knew it wouldn’t last.

The second thing she notices is the singing. It’s so soft that she’d nearly missed it at first, but the gentle melody washes over her as she blinks in the dim grayness of the bedroom. The words are foreign to her— she thought perhaps they were in Vulcan, but she’d never been much use with languages— but the voice is immediately familiar. 

Christine stirs and rolls over. Her eyes have adjusted well enough to make out the shape of Nyota Uhura standing at the dresser, fumbling her earrings on in the darkness. ( _My girlfriend_ , Christine thinks, rather giddily. It had been months since they’d gotten together, but something about being able to call Nyota _hers_ still made her just as weak in the knees as it did on the first day.) The song she’s murmuring as she gets ready is low and delicate-sounding, and Christine just lays there for a while and listens, a small smile playing across her lips. Her girlfriend is beautiful, but her voice is even more so. 

Nyota’s voice is one of the things that Christine likes best about her. It’s clear and expressive, and it moves with the notes like Nyota herself moves: graceful and intuitive. It just sounds so _Nyota_ that it’s almost enough to make Christine’s heart hurt. This song is tripping and light, and Nyota’s voice rises and falls beautifully, though her tone is hushed. It suits her perfectly. She makes the music come alive. 

Laying there, still lingering in that realm of half-sleep where everything is sort of fuzzy and unreal, Christine isn’t sure how long it is before Nyota’s song trails off into silence. Without the noise, the room feels… oddly empty, somehow. Christine suddenly can’t help but break the silence.

She pushes herself up into a sitting position. “What song was that?” she asks blearily, her voice still raspy with sleep.

Nyota whips around from where she’d been casting about for her shoes. “My goodness, Christine, you nearly scared me half to death!” she chastises her, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I’m sorry if I woke you up. I left the lights off...” She trails off, looking slightly distressed.

It finally registers in Christine’s mind that people don’t usually get ready in the dark just because it’s a fun thing to do. Nyota had done that so she wouldn’t wake up. She can feel the heat of a blush creeping across her face.

“No, it’s alright,” Christine assures her quickly. “I was listening to you sing. It was… nice.”

Nyota pauses, then sets down the shoe she’d been holding and sits next to Christine on the bed. This close, she can make out Nyota’s face well enough to see that she’s smiling at her. 

“I’m glad you did,” she says softly. “To answer your question— it’s an old Vulcan song. ‘ _Shan'hal'lak_.’ It means ‘the engulfment.’ It’s about love at first sight.”

“‘s a lovely song,” Christine mumbles, rubbing her eyes. “Even if I didn’t understand it.”

Nyota smiles. “I thought so, too. Spock taught it to me, actually. It was my request. I heard him playing the lyre melody and I just _had_ to learn it. We were going to do a duet in the rec room this weekend, but it seems like you just got a sneak peak.” Her voice is warm with a fond, teasing tone that makes Christine’s stomach flip every time she hears it. 

“I guess I’ll have to act surprised when I hear it, then,” Christine replies. She opens her mouth to say more, but her train of thought is cut off by a yawn.

Nyota laughs. “See, _this_ is what I wanted to avoid! No girlfriend of mine is going to go around sleep-deprived if I can help it.”

Christine rolls her eyes. “If the crew keeps risking life and limb, you won’t have much say in the matter,” she says wryly. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Four o’clock, ship’s time. I’ve got the graveyard shift tonight, I’m afraid,” Nyota says, somewhat apologetically. “You should get back to sleep.” 

She reaches out to gently brush a piece of hair off of Christine’s face. Christine leans into the touch almost unconsciously. She has a rather foolish desire to ask Nyota to stay, but she knows it’s no good. Duty calls, after all.

“Lie back down,” she murmurs. “I have to leave for the bridge soon, but I’ve got just enough time to sing you one more song before I go.”

Obligingly, Christine settles down on the bed again, looking up at her girlfriend in the dark. Nyota carefully reaches out to take her hand, her fingers brushing over Christine’s knuckles before twining themselves into place, before tipping her face back slightly. In the dim light from outside, Christine can just make out the slight swing of her earrings with the motion of her head. The darkness makes her look mysterious, like something entirely different and new. Christine thinks she’s seen a hundred different versions of Nyota, and she hopes she’ll get to see thousands more. She’s utterly head over heels for all of them. 

“ _Lala mtoto lala,_ ” Nyota begins to sing quietly, and Christine lets her eyes slide shut. She doesn’t understand the words to this song either, but she’d heard it before. _A childhood lullaby_ , Nyota had told her once. Christine might not be able to speak Swahili, but she didn’t need a universal translator to comprehend the affection and care in Nyota’s voice as she sings a song just for her.

Her chest feels warm and light. Lulled by the sound of Nyota’s voice, and comforted by the feeling of Nyota’s hand in hers, Christine slowly feels herself drifting off

The last thought she has is that she should tell Nyota she loves her, but sleep overtakes her before she can open her mouth. That’s okay. There will be plenty more songs to be sung, and plenty more times for Christine to listen.

**Author's Note:**

> i really hope you enjoyed your gift! i haven't written these two before, hopefully i did our girls justice.
> 
> the song uhura is singing at the end is called "lala mtoto lala," it's a lovely swahili lullaby and you can hear it here:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmCVt0pN3EM
> 
> thank you so much for reading! kudos are very much appreciated and comments are treasured. you can chat with me on tumblr @thesarosperiod or @vulcanssaygayrights. see you next time!


End file.
